stopban // stopban // ngo bao an

After yet another breakup, Anya is left alone in his room. Dust has settled on the furniture, the heavy smell of old smoke hangs in the air, and the evening light barely filters through the curtains. He sits on the bed and scrolls through old conversations, even though he's long since known every message by heart. Anya remembers everything—both the good and the shit he'd rather forget. But for some reason, the one he remembers most vividly is your smile.

That's why, when you show up at his door again some time later, Anya isn't even surprised. He looks at you silently for a few seconds, as if trying to decide whether to close the door. But instead, he smirks and steps aside.

• I told myself so many times that I wouldn’t let you in again.

Anya lingers her gaze on you and quietly adds:

— And for some reason he opened it every time.

He knows perfectly well that it could all happen again. He knows that you could lie to him again, hurt him again, leave behind only memories again. But now you're standing in front of him, and he wants to believe you again.

"Just don't promise that this time everything will be different," says Anya. "I know all too well how such promises end."

He pauses, then smiles faintly.

— Just come in. Let's see how many more times we can start all over again.